


tell me about despair

by cherrysalad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrysalad/pseuds/cherrysalad
Summary: Remus and Sirius find happiness, if only for a moment or two.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 15





	tell me about despair

Spring is gentle and quiet. The air is sweet. Rain falls like careful footsteps on the roof of Remus' cottage. One morning Remus wakes up and it is dark, slow drops of rain slide down his bedroom window. He reluctantly gets out of bed and pads down the hall to the kitchen. The first thing he does every morning is put the kettle on the stove, and sit at the table waiting for the high pitched squeal. He brings his tea to the porch, where he likes to sit and and read and watch the birds in the towering oak in front of his house. They're the closest thing Remus has to companions out here. He smokes a cigarette and sips his earl grey, the smoke and steam unfurl in pearly clouds around him. 

Suddenly, a squat brown burst of feathers comes barreling through the branches of the oak tree, knocking off the fresh leaves. The owl lands on Remus' porch looking disgruntled. He takes the cream colored envelope from the bird's beak and tears it open unceremoniously. He unfolds the sheet of parchment inside and recognizes the curling, elegant script as Dumbledore's handwriting. It's a short note, it reads, 

_Remus -_  
_I told Sirius that it may be wise for him to stay with you for a while. Expect him within the next few days._  
_Albus_

Remus' heart picks up even as he scowls at the note. Feelings of dread and anticipation build inside of him, conflicting but inextricably linked. He remembers the last time he saw Sirius, he looked so gaunt and sickly. Like a version of himself from some feverish nightmare, he hopes that when Sirius arrives his face will be fuller and not so ghostly pale. He hopes he'll be able to recognize him as the boy he knew fifteen years ago.

Will things between them be at all the same? Or have they been altered too dramatically by time and tragedy, broken bottles caught in the rough, relentless pull of the sea, dulled to the point where they could hardly be recognized. Remus thinks in a lot of ways, he is the same, but he has always been sad and tired and worn out, he came from tragedy, knew it well. Sirius was different. He had life and fire and hope. That was the boy that Remus knew, and he was afraid that fate gradually beat all of those things out of Sirius. 

Despite all of this, Remus prepares his house for Sirius the best he can manage. He transfigures the sofa into a twin bed and puts it in the spare room, which is barely larger than a closet, but is neat and fits the bed inside. He goes grocery shopping in the closest town and buys the things he remembers as being Sirius' favorites, mostly foods loaded with salt and grease and artificial flavors that give Remus a stomach ache by the thought alone. He expects that Sirius' tastes will not have changed much, seeing as he has not exactly had very much time to discover new favorites. 

Over the next week, it feels like Remus is always waiting. He is constantly glancing over his shoulder. When he's making tea or doing the dishes. Sitting in bed reading a book he will strain his ears for the sound of a knock on the door, or a familiar voice shouting his name. But the days continue to pass in quiet routine, with no disruption from Sirius Black. 

After a week Remus starts to worry. He rereads Dumbledore's brief letter and he decides that perhaps Sirius isn't coming. Maybe he decided to disregard Dumbledore's suggestion entirely, Sirius has never been good at following directions, or even simple advice. If you told Sirius to do something, it was likely he would do the opposite, just on principle. Remus catches himself smiling thinking about it and shakes his head and if trying to shake the expression off.

After the second week with no sign, he turns the bed back into a sofa. Though he leaves bags of chips unopened in the cabinets. Halfway through the third week, thoughts of Sirius have returned to common background noise so, when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a big black dog dozing at the foot of the bed, his heart skips. Once he realizes who it is he's too drowsy and surprised to feel anything but relieved about his arrival. He scratches Padfoot's head. 

"Good to see you, Sirius," he mumbles, burying his face in his pillow and drifting quickly back to sleep. 

In the morning, he's surprised to find that Sirius is still a dog. He frowns, but gets out of bed to fix him something to eat. He's sure he'll be hungry. He cooks bacon and eggs and the smell must draw Sirius out of bed, because he comes trotting out of the bedroom, looking up at Remus with hopeful eyes. 

"I figured you'd want something to eat," he says. "I was expecting you much sooner, you know, after I got Dumbledore's owl. What took you so lomg?" Padfoot, of course, is silent. "Do you think you'll be changing back anytime soon?" Padfoot only makes a low whine which Remus isn't sure how to interpret. This is not what he expecting, and he's not sure why Sirius is acting this way, but he knows from experience that all he can do is wait. So, he puts three strips of bacon and a fried egg into a bowl and sets it on the floor for Sirius. 

He sits at the table with his own plate and watches Padfoot devour his breakfast. 

"I'm glad you're here. I worried about you, when you were in hiding." He tells his friend. They finish their breakfasts in silence, it's hard to make conversation with someone who isn't going to answer back. When they're both done, Remus washes up and takes his mug of tea out to the porch, Padfoot follows. He curls up by Remus' feet and dozes off. Remus reads the days' issue of the Daily Prophet. Still, not a mention of Voldemort, still too many articles about the love lives of famous quidditch players. He sets it down with an irritable sigh. Padfoot looks up at him. 

"Now really," he says. "The prophet used to be a reliable source of news before that damn Skeeter got her hands on it. Good god I sound like my father, don't I?" Sirius had only met his father a handful of times, his father would always make an obligatory comment about his ponytail or his ear piercing, but Remus knew he liked Sirius. When he told his father they were going to move in together after school, his father looked thoughtfully down at his hands and said 'Good. I can tell that he's good for you." Remus remembers being filled with a sudden warmth. 

Now, his chest feels tight at the memory. He flips once more through the pages of the Prophet, scouring the articles for anything out of the ordinary. It's frightening, and infuriating to think that Voldemort is back and most of the wizarding world does not know or believe it, all because of that incompetent Cornelius Fudge. 

"It's happening all over again." Remus says, frowning down at Sirius. And it is terrible, but some part of him, buried deep, deep inside of himself is glad. The last war brought fear and pain like Remus had never thought possible, but through all of it, he was undoubtedly alive. When it was over, when the sharp, immediate pain of his wounds faded slowly to a dull throb, it was like being dead. Remus has been in hibernation for a long time. 

"Sirius, do you remember the last time you were really, truly happy?" He asks. Remus has thought about it before, he has wondered if it might've been James' and Lily's wedding, but that couldn't be right, that felt too much like an ending, and got black out drunk and told Remus he was afraid. When Remus asked, of what, he simply keeled over and began dry heaving on the lawn. And then he'd remembered, a much less conspicuous day, the winter after that. 

It was their first Christmas out of Hogwarts, and Sirius and Remus were living together. Remus expected the Christmas to pass with little acknowledgement, so he was surprised when he came home Christmas eve to find a squat little potted fir tree strung with tinsel and twinkling fairy lights. Sirius was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked. 

"I'm making dinner," Sirius said. "It's Christmas eve, of course." 

"Oh I didn't think we were celebrating," he replied softly. "With everything that's happening." News of new deaths appeared in the Prophet every day. People they had gone to school with, some who they would consider friends. 

"Well," Sirius said. "I thought we could both use some cheering up." Remus smiled feebly.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," he said. Sirius rolled his eyes. 

"It doesn't matter. Now take off your coat and help me with with dinner." Remus did as he was told. 

Padfoot barks, snapping Remus suddenly back into the present.

"There were good times," he murmurs. "And we could be really good together." Padfoot barks a second time. He doesn't know if he'd be able to say these things to Sirius' human face. 

Days pass and Sirius remains in his dog form, Remus gets used to it. He begins to like the silent companionship, it must be the first time Remus is the louder of the pair. He tells this to Sirius one morning, on a walk through the woods. 

Summer creeps up on them, bringing brutal heat and thunder storms. Remus has never liked the heat, it makes him feel claustrophobic, the way it presses on all sides. They stop taking walks because Sirius gets short of breath and starts panting quickly, Remus can only imagine how dreadful it would to be covered in fur all the time. 

The July full moon fast approaches, and Remus feels it tugging at him. Everytime he glances up at the moon's pale, quickly waxing body an unpleasant chill shoots up his spine. He locks himself in the basement at seven thirty on the night, half an hour before the moon is supposed to rise. He scratches Padfoot's head and when their eyes meet. Remus manages a weak smile. 

"I'll see you in the morning," he says. 

He wakes up the next morning feeling nauseated and with new wounds on his arm. With a shaky hand, he picks up his wand and spells them closed. When he stands, he finds he's so dizzy that he has to sit down again for a minute. When he finally manages to climb the basement steps and open the door, he finds a very human Sirius sitting at the table and a cup of tea waiting for him. 

"How are you feeling, Moony?" Sirius asks. 

"Not very well," he replies with a wry smile. "But no worse than usual. It's good to see you Sirius." He sits down at the table and sips his tea.

"I've been here for weeks," Sirius says. Remus simply shakes his head and then winces because his neck is sore. Sirius frowns. "Why don't you get some sleep?" Remus sighs. 

"Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea," he mutters, rising from the table. He has to brace himself on the table to gain balance. Sirius stands up quickly and insists on helping him to his room. He covers Remus in a thin sheet and sets his tea cup on the bedside table, then Sirius slips out the door, but not before glancing back at Remus and smiling. 

He's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he wakes up, it's to a knock on his bedroom door. 

"Hello?" He says blearily. Sirius opens the door a bowl in hand and comes to perch on the edge of Remus' bed. 

"Are you hungry?" Sirius asks. 

"I-I could eat," Remus says, nodding. He sits up in bed and takes the bowl from Sirius. It's tomato soup. He eats a few spoonfuls and immediately feels nauseated. He stumbles out of bed towards the bathroom, barely makes it before vomiting. Sirius follows him and rests a cool hand on the back of his neck. When Remus is done being sick he kneels on the floor with his eyes closed and his head against the edge of the tub. 

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have offered food," Sirius murmurs. 

"No, it was very nice of you," Remus assures him. "It's-well, it's been a long time since anyone has taken care of me." Sirius is smiling very softly at him. He struggles to stand up, but manages it after a minute and rinses the sour taste of vomit from his mouth with cool tap water. 

After he gets back into bed, Sirius sits in the threadbare armchair next to him. 

"You know," he says. "I didn't plan on staying a dog for so long after coming, but once I got here, and I saw you, I didn't know what to say. Being a dog is so much easier than being a person. Besides, it was nice to just listen to someone for once." Remus laughs. "I'll let you get some rest." He says. Remus opens his mouth, nearly asking him to stay, but stops himself in time.

"Thank you," he says, instead. He falls quickly into a deep, comfortable sleep.

The next morning, when he wakes up he's still feeling sore and sick, but he refuses to let Sirius baby him. He gets up first and makes tea for both of them. 

"Good morning," Sirius murmurs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Are you feeling better?" 

"A little," he tells his friend. There are so many unspoken words between them, arguments and apologies and confessions, but Remus doesn't know how to begin digging them up. So they sit and drink their tea in weighted silence. "You look much healthier than the last time I saw you." He says, he'd been too ill to notice the day before, but now he sees that Sirius' face is fuller, the circles under his eyes have faded, and his face is clean shaven which makes him look less like an old man.

"Thank you Moony," Sirius says. 

"What was the worst part, Sirius?" He asks tentatively. Sirius, looks up at him, startled. "About azkaban?" He half expects Sirius to close up at the mention. 

"I don't know if I could pick one part out as worse than the others," Sirius says. They sit in thoughtful silence for a minute. "I lost so many years sitting in that prison. I came out an old man. I hardly recognize myself." There is that same, familiar squeeze in Remus' chest. He knows how Sirius feels, he wasn't locked in prison, but he too feels like the past thirteen years have passed without him being entirely present.

"I recognize you, if that's any comfort. I was afraid I wouldn't, but you're still the same in so many ways." Sirius looks at him, his eyes shining, and then down at his weathered hands. 

"Thank you," he says earnestly. He's looking anywhere but Remus' eyes. "Do you want to hear something stupid?" 

"Yes, I would," Remus answers.

"The night in the shrieking shack, when I thought we were going to prove my innocence and bring Peter to justice, I thought that once things had been sorted out we might pick up where we left off." Remus' heart picks up. "But nothing could be that simple, could it?" 

"I don't know, Padfoot." Remus says. "We're both here now, aren't we? Of course things will never be the same as they were, but I- well. We could try, couldn't we?" 

"Remus," Sirius says quietly. "Look at what's happening. Look how the world is around us." 

"I have spent so much time being unhappy, Sirius. Of course I know that things might go wrong, but shouldn't we hold on to whatever good things that have not yet been taken from us as long as we are allowed?" Sirius let's out a long, weary sigh and slowly, he nods.

"Through all of it, Moony, I loved you." A thick ache, crawls up Remus' throat. 

"I loved you too, even when I shouldn't have. No matter how angry I was." Sirius looks at him across the table, smiles and reaches a hand across the expanse. Remus takes it without hesitation and holds it as tight as he can.

**Author's Note:**

> i really should have outgrown fanfiction at this point but i'm having a great time yeehaw


End file.
